


hear them whisper

by asianladybug (flusteredkeith)



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Based on a Taylor Swift Song, F/M, I Know Places, Paparazzi, Press and Tabloids, alleyway makeouts, just grab my hand and don't ever drop it, they'll be chasing their tails trying to track us down
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-26
Updated: 2016-12-26
Packaged: 2018-09-12 11:03:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9068812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flusteredkeith/pseuds/asianladybug
Summary: “Got a good taste of that added flavor I mentioned?” he asks in a low voice. She can feel his warm breath on her neck and it does nothing to help her catch her own.“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she mutters, trying to ignore how closely his chest is pressed up against hers. She probably ought to have picked a wider alleyway to hide in, but seeing as her heart is pounding faster and faster beneath the dim glow of his luminous eyes, she really can’t be sure how much she regrets this.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys! This is my secret santa gift for @rosewoods1901! Merry Christmas, and I'm sorry it was a day late. I hope you enjoy it nonetheless!!
> 
> And special thanks to the mlsecretsanta2016 team for putting this all together!!

It happens whenever somebody sees what they were too careless to conceal—an intimate touch of the cheek, a soft brush of the hair, a lingering hold on her waistline. Like wolves they’d come out in the dead of night, ready to devour whatever moments their cameras could capture. Every once in a while, despite how well she knows every nook and cranny of Paris, Marinette would still find herself turning a corner only to be blinded by flashing lights. She knows it’s something she should be used to by now—she is famous after all—but it doesn’t make the experience of being bombarded by pesky civilians any less jarring.

Rumors always come and go, but this week—the week before Christmas, no less—the tabloids have been flooded by a single suggestive snapshot, a passing moment she didn’t realize would start another round of paparazzis lurking in between alleyways of the city.

She hates it so much. She hates how it looks to the public eye and how it interferes with their night patrols, causing delays and distractions in their line of duty. Worser still, she especially hates how smug and facetious _he_ gets whenever news of their alleged romance flares up yet again.

 _“It was only a hug!”_ she tells him after a narrow escape. After flying through the frosted air in their haste to avoid another creepy cameraman trying to catch footage of them on his iPhone, they find themselves now tucked away behind the balcony ledge of an apartment near the Louvre. “You shouldn't have touched my hair that time. It made it look extra couple-y to them.”

“My Lady, it seems we have a chemistry that cannot be hidden,” he says, his eyes full of mirth. “You can't deny our _bond_.”

Groaning, she smacks a palm to her face. “That was bad, Chat, even for you.”

“Buginette, we're a galvanic cell. Can't you feel the electricity flowing between us?”

Laughing in spite of herself, she replies, “Oh, Chat. You really need to be banned from the Internet.”

“Oh, come on,” he says. “You have to admit the whole ordeal adds a bit of flavor to our typical night patrol sessions.”

“Flavor?” she asks skeptically. “We’re supposed to be responsible superheroes of Paris. The paparazzi just complicate everything.”

“Oh yeah?” he says, the corners of his mouth twisting up into a playful smirk as he leans in closer. “Complicate it how?”

“Shh, stop that!” she hisses, putting an index finger to his nose and pushing him away. She looks around at their surroundings to make sure nobody could have spotted them, whether from the air or from the ground. “Someone might see!”

Chat bursts out laughing and throws an arm around her shoulder, causing her to shrink inwards and hide her face in her hands.

“So what if they do?” he asks.

“Because,” she says. Although she is wary of any random passersby who may be watching, she can’t bring herself to knock his arm off of her. In the midst of all the snow around them, his chest feels warm and familiar, his jovial mood enticing and contagious. “B-Because…”

Because most of all, she hates how what those damn photographers capture isn’t the truth at all. They aren’t dating and she’s in love with Adrien, not Chat. So why couldn’t she bring himself to tell him this?

She loses track of how long she pauses but by the time she opens her mouth again to try and form a coherent explanation, Chat’s ears droop and his arm slides off of her as he stands up to look over the balcony’s ledge.

“I think the coast is clear now,” he says in a subdued tone.

“Chat, I—” she starts, though she has no idea how she planned on finishing that sentence.

“Like you said, we’re supposed to be on patrol duty, right?” he asks with a shrug, hopping onto the ledge and gazing over towards the Eiffel Tower. The air suddenly feels colder around them.

“Well, I—I just think we should be responsible,” she reasons out loud, getting onto her feet. “I wasn’t trying to—to make you feel bad in any way or—”

“Don’t worry, my lady,” he says with a formal salute. “I understand. Nobody needs unnecessary drama in their lives.”

She reaches out a hand towards him, intending to give him a comforting touch on the shoulder, but stops herself and recoils. Judging by his refusal to look at her, she doesn’t think he’d appreciate the gesture, so with a deep sigh, she opens her mouth and tries again.

“Chat, it’s fine if you—” but just then, out of the corner of her eye, she sees a sliver of movement inside an apartment window adjacent to their spot on the balcony—a rumple of curtains and the flare of a camera lens, seconds away from a snap…

“Chat, move!”

With no time to spare, she jump-tackles Chat Noir, toppling them over off the ledge, falling fast towards the ground. Spinning her compact yo-yo, she throws it forward towards the nearest building and glides along with it through the air, refusing to stop until they’ve put at least five kilometers between the apartment complex they’ve just vacated. She can feel his claws digging into her shoulders as he holds on tight.

A few buildings later, she finds a deserted alleyway and slips in between narrow walls into shadow, hearing rats scatter away from her unwelcome landing. Leaning against the cold, icy surface behind her, she releases Chat Noir from her grip as their ragged breathing slowly levels out.

“S-sorry about that,” she says, panting. In the darkness, his eyes flash a bright green, and although she can barely see anything else in this pitch black corner, she knows without question there’s a Cheshire Cat smile spreading wider upon his lips.

“Got a good taste of that added flavor I mentioned?” he asks in a low voice. She can feel his warm breath on her neck and it does nothing to help her catch her own.

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she mutters, trying to ignore how closely his chest is pressed up against hers. She probably ought to have picked a wider alleyway to hide in, but seeing as her heart is pounding faster and faster beneath the dim glow of his luminous eyes, she really can’t be sure how much she regrets this.

“Take all the time you need then, milady,” he says, withdrawing his head back towards his end of the wall to give her as much space as he possibly can. “I’m not in a rush.”

Feeling a loss of warmth and something else she can’t quite name, she finds herself tilting her chin up with a craving she didn’t know she had. Before she can stop herself, her fingers are in his hair and she’s pulling him down to capture his lips with her own. Like a sudden extinguishing of a bright light, Chat shuts his eyes as he leans into her kiss, bringing a clawed hand up to stroke her cheek. It’s nothing like the last time she kissed him. This time, he’s conscious and fully aware, lips responding immediately to every move of her own. Her knees tremble as his tongue slides across her bottom lip and she parts her mouth at once, her grip tightening his hair into knots. She can’t think, not when his teeth are pulling at her lips, not when their tongues are exploring each other’s mouths, not when his hands are trailing shivers down her spine…

With a loud _snap!_ and a blinding flash of white light, they break apart, startled. Looking over at the opening of the passageway, Ladybug’s heart falls. A coattail whips out of sight just beyond the walls. Face falling in horror, she glances back at Chat Noir and is surprised to see a devious glint in his eyes.

“Catch him, Kitty,” she whispers.

“I’m on it,” he says with a salute. He leaps forward out of the alleyway and chases after the man. She hears a shattering of glass and giggles to herself as Chat’s voice rings out, _Oops, sorry about your camera, sir!_

“You got ‘em?” she asks when he returns.

“Yup,” he says, pulling out two halves of an SD memory card.

“Chat, that was a close shave and a huge mistake, I’m so sorry I—” she breaks off at the sound of footsteps running towards them. The paparazzi are circling them like vultures in the dead of the night and she refuses to be caught.

“You still sure that this added flavor to our patrols is a good thing?” she asks with a raised eyebrow.

“Absolutely,” he says.

“I hear them coming,” she says nervously. “Don’t want to be a cat caught in headlights do you?”

“So we run,” he says. Grabbing her hand and extending his baton from the ground up, he lifts them both high into the sky.

And as they jump over the rooftops of Paris through the night, she can’t help but notice how his lips are still swollen and his hair is still mussed. It tugs at her heart in the most frustrating way and makes her realize there is one thing she hates even more about the paparazzi situation than every other reason she’s previously thought. No matter how much she tries to deny it, as she thinks of all the moments they were too careless to conceal—from little touches, to long hugs, to _that damn kiss_ —she hates how everything those godforsaken cameras capture is actually much, _much_ closer to the truth than she’d like to admit.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> come say hello to me at [@asianladybug](http://asianladybug.tumblr.com/)!


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